


Mighty Wears the Tutu

by ghostboi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, BAMF Women, Friendship, Gen, Marvel - Freeform, Mjolnir - Freeform, No pairings - Freeform, Original Character(s), Prompt Fill, Saving the World, Thor - Freeform, Tutu, Worthiness, set during the first avengers movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostboi/pseuds/ghostboi
Summary: "I want a three year old in a tutu to bring Thor's hammer to him" From a tumblr post (I think).Thor gets a little help in a big battle.





	1. Chapter 1

_These creatures are strong._

Thor shoved himself up on one elbow, barely sparing a glance for the wall he had just been thrown through. His eyes fell on the approaching chitauri, narrowed as he assessed them. They were strong, but it was the sheer number of them that was overwhelming. The six of them against such a massive number? A smirk touched his mouth - he did love a good battle - and he shoved himself to his feet. 

He stretched out his hand, preparing to call for Mjölnir, when he felt something tugging on his cloak. Thor spared a glance down, and his blue gaze fell on a small child. Tiny, really, in comparison with his own large frame. A tiny, blonde child, her hair in haphazard pigtails and streaked with drywall powder and soot, wearing a bright pink tutu. A white screen print of Iron Man adorned her pale pink shirt.

In her little hands, held in front of her like she was offering him something as simple as a flower, was Mjolnir. Thor blinked down at her, and she returned his gaze, her little face streaked with dirt and her features solemn. She was barely three and a half feet tall; the hammer she so effortlessly held was almost as large as she. A sudden, bright smile graced her features and lit up the dusty, destroyed space around them. 

Three and a half feet tall, and as worthy - worthier, even - as a future king.

“Hi Thor! You dropped your hammer,” she raised it toward him, hefting it as if it was light as air (and Thor knew it probably was, to her), “Here. You gotta go beat up those scary monsters now.”

He knelt and took the offered weapon, gripping it's smooth handle in hand - huge compared to her tiny one - and nodded as he vowed, “And so I shall. Thank you, tiny warrior.” He crossed an arm across his chest, fist resting over his heart, in a gesture of fealty, and bowed his blond head. He grinned at the girl as she whispered, “You’re welcome,” and patted his arm.

Thor raised his head, eyes shifting to a woman who was climbing through a hole in the wall nearby - half of it had been knocked down during the battle.

“Carly? Carly!” Panic flooded her features as her gaze shifted from the tiny blonde to the large blond, “Carly, come to mommy, sweetie. It’s not safe here!”

“Okay you go fight, I gotta go pa’tect my mommy now. Bye!” 

Thor spared another grin for the small child as she turned and ran to her mother, before turning to seek out his own teammates among the chaos which was currently New York City.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor keeps an eye on the tiny tutu warrior throughout the years.

The battle with the Chitauri was ended; shawarma eaten; and clean-up beginning; when the god of thunder spotted a dusty pink tutu in a crowd of people. He pushed his way, albeit gently, through the crowd, nodding to those who thanked him, offering weary smiles. Upon reaching the small girl in pink, the thunder-god knelt before her.

“Hi Thor!”

“Hello, little one. Thank you for your help today.”

The little girl - Carly, her mother had called her earlier - beamed. “You welcome. Momma -her name is Joanna, isn’t she so pwetty? Momma says you should help people when you can. You helped people today.” She reached out and patted his brawny shoulder with a tiny, chubby hand, “Good job!”

Thor chuckled, eyes crinkling in laughter at the praise. He fidgeted with his left wrist for a moment; when he removed his hand, he was holding a leather bracelet, a thin strand of metal rope woven through its middle. Two small, black stones adorned it.

He shifted his blue eyes to the woman standing next to Carly, watching them. “May I -?” he raised the bracelet for her to see. She gave him a tired smile and nodded yes, her fingers stroking through her daughter’s hair.

“For you, little warrior,” the big man carefully tied the bracelet around the girl’s tiny wrist - she laughed in delight when it shrunk down, on its own, to fit her.

“Is it magic?”

“It might have magical properties,” Thor smiled as he raised a hand and touched her cheek, “It is yours now, my thanks for your assistance today. When you need me, call for me. I will know, and I will come.”

He glanced over his shoulder as he heard his name called - Tony Stark, the Man of Iron, was watching him with a small smile. Next to him stood his brother; Loki was scowling behind the mask he had been adorned with, brows drawn together in weariness and anger. Thor sighed softly, the sight of his brother, bound and prisoner, causing an ache in his heart.

His eyes shifted to Carly as the little girl leaned in to hug him suddenly. “It’s okay to be sad,” she whispered near his ear, “we still love you.”

“Thank you,” he touched his forehead to hers for a moment, before standing and moving to join his own ‘adopted’ family, his Avengers.

 

Two years passed before Thor felt the pull of the bracelet he had given to a small child, summoning him. The Bifröst landed him in the backyard of a white house. A bewildered-looking woman peered out the back door at him moments after he landed. He recognized her immediately: Carly’s mother, Joanna. Her eyes widened upon seeing him. “Thor?” He nodded to her, even as he rushed into the house, brows furrowed in concern for the small girl whom had summoned him. She followed behind him as he rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Thor? What are you -? What’s happening?”

Thor followed the pull of magic to a door; he opened it and stepped into a bedroom.. to find a five year old blonde girl scowling at her closet.

“Oh, there you are. I need to use your hammer. I don’t have one and there’s a monster in my closet. I need to squish it.”

Thor blinked down at the still-very-small girl as she crossed to him. “Are you -?” Before he could query of her wellbeing, she gently tugged Mjolnor from his grip and headed off toward the closet, hammer’s shaft resting over her shoulder like one would carry the midgard stick known as a ball-bat.

He couldn’t stop his grin as she jerked open the closet door and called inside, “You’ve had it now, monster!”

 

When she is twelve, he is summoned again.

He lands on Midgard, a short distance from a yard full of children. He strides across the field, eyes searching until they fall upon a small blonde girl, sitting on the ground. Her hair is hanging around her face, she’s crying, and the bright pink tutu she’s wearing is torn.

“Can you teach me to fight?”

Thor’s brow creases for a moment, before his expression softens. He offers his hand, pulling to girl to (and off) her feet. He rights her, making certain she is standing steady, before finally speaking. “Someone far wiser than me once told me that a wise king never seeks out war, but must always be ready for it.”

The girl stares up at him for a moment, her own brow creased as she contemplates his words. “How?”

“I will teach you to defend yourself,” he tells her, “but hear me, tiny warrior: you must always value peace over war.”

The girl is silent for a moment before nodding her head. “My mom says love before you hate,” her voice is quiet, eyes on the ground, “I think it’s the same. I will, I’ll remember. I just want to be able to stand up to bullies, and to protect my mom.”

“Your heart is mighty, little one.”

 

When she’s 16, he is summoned to a dwelling different from her previous one. It has been a long time, and the girl before him is not so tiny, but still so small, in comparison to his own frame. The green eyes (which remind him a bit of Loki’s) and the bright smile are immediately recognizable.

“I know it’s not really what you meant,” she gives him an apologetic smile, “but we’ve tried all day to get this stupid couch inside, and we don’t know anyone else here yet, and --” Her voice trails off as he easily lifts the couch. He hefts its weight, securing his grip, before asking,

“Where do you want it?”

 

He lands easily in the backyard (which hadn’t quite recovered from his last visit via the Bifröst, three years earlier) and straightens. His blue gaze flicks to the back door as it opens, expecting to see Carly; instead, it is her mother who approaches him.

“I know you have worlds to save and realms to rule,” the woman smiles up at him as she leads him into the house for iced lemonade, “but Carly is graduating high school tomorrow, and - well, it’s kind of a big deal for her, and for me really, she’s valedictorian and I’m so proud of her - anyway, I thought she might like it if, well, if -”

“I would be honored to attend this most noble of ceremonies,” he bows slightly, causing her to laugh softly.

“I think it would mean the world to her.”

She recognizes him during the ceremony the following day, even in his jeans and jacket, and her face lights up like a star. Thor beams at her from his seat next to her mother, claps loudly when she crosses the stage for her diploma, and listens with pride filling him as she gives her speech. Her words are soft, even in the microphone, as she meets his gaze across the crowd and finishes with,

“Someone far wiser than me once told me that a mighty king never seeks out war, but must always be ready for it. The world out there is our kingdom, so we need to do it justice. Do not go looking for war; look for peace, and hope, and strive to be good to others and to be good to yourself.”

They pose for a picture for her mother after the ceremony, him lifting her onto his shoulder and her propping Mjolner over her own shoulder like that earth-stick-ball-bat.

 

Thor checks up on her from time to time, even without being summoned.

He was watching from across the parking lot, through a large plate glass window, as she received her black belt in karate at 14; he was there when she was 16, ready to intervene but watching with pride as she defended another girl against a boy who wouldn’t stop putting his hands where they shouldn’t be (he was especially impressed at how quickly she took him to the ground and pinned him there); he was seated in the front row when she graduated high school, her mother taking pictures every few seconds; he was watching from a seat near the exit when she graduated college with degrees in both science and law.

When she was 23, she began to use her degrees in science to help work on solutions for food shortages and global warming; at 26, she was elected mayor for her town, youngest in the town’s history. At 36, she was traveling Midgard, helping those in need and fighting the evils that men wrought upon one another.

She did many wonderful things in her lifetime, proving with her actions and her heart the worthiness Mjolner had sensed in her, all those years ago.

 

At 76, she summons him once again, late into the night. When he makes his way into her home, ready to defend against evil, he finds her staring at her closet with a scowl on her face. She’s wearing a pair of pajama pants and a worn, obviously favorite t-shirt with a white print screen of Iron Man.

“Hi Thor, sorry to bother you so late, but can I borrow your hammer? There’s a monster in my closet and it needs to be squished.”

 

To Thor, she would ever be his tiny tutu warrior.


End file.
